


Bulldog

by jaybug_jimmies



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17535146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybug_jimmies/pseuds/jaybug_jimmies
Summary: "My dear Watson, what on this fine green earth or in the sweet blue heavens possessed you last night?"Brief scene I found sitting in my folders.





	Bulldog

"My dear Watson, what on this fine green earth or in the sweet blue heavens possessed you last night?"

Roused from my light sleep, I squinted from my position in bed. I had been dozing while sitting partly upright, a cold compress on my head and a glass of cod oil beside my bed to aide with the ache, which I had requested very early that morning. I scowled at the unwelcome sight of my friend.

"I'd prefer not to talk about it, Holmes. You should not have bothered coming down here."

"Well, Mrs. Watson was most insistent. When she explained that our unassuming, affable physician attempted to extract an unfortunate fellow's teeth with his fists last night, I could do nothing but come."

"What? I said nothing of the sort to her."

"I may have gleaned some of the information from Constable Gregory Blake on my way over."

I turned away from him and tugged the duvet over my shoulder.

"Well, I'm sorry Holmes, but I'm afraid you've wasted your time. I'm quite fine, I would just like some rest so that my head has the chance to clear itself."

I felt the weight shift on the mattress as Holmes sat on the foot of the bed.

"I'm not here to inquire after your health. I would prefer to hear the course of events from its direct source."

I squinted my eyes shut.

"Later. I'd like to rest now."

"As I know that you are neither one for excessive drink nor mindless violence, and it is unlikely an absolute stranger could elicit such extreme an action, I tend to favour the idea that you knew this gentleman?"

I laughed dryly.

"A gentleman he was not, by any stretch of the imagination. And you're wrong; I'd never clasped eyes before on him in my life. I hope never to again."

The mattress creaked as he leaned forward.

"The mystery deepens. I trust there was very good reason for your disabling this individual. Ah! By that slight grim smile of satisfaction I see there was not, but it was most certainly a personal provocation. He offended you in some manner?"

I sighed wearily.

"Holmes . . ."

"Yes. That narrows things considerably. There are not many topics that an absolute stranger can hit upon that are so tender. That is typically the avenue of the intimate acquaintance."

"Could we discuss this later, please?"

"You've had all night to rest, Watson; it'll do you no good to stop yourself up the rest of the day in here. Let us breakfast at St. James."

"No."

"Why?"

"You only want the opportunity to cross-examine me."

“Surely you’ll find it more comfortable to converse at St. James than in your bed.”

“I’d find it more comfortable not conversing at all.”

“Perhaps so, but nevertheless. It could not have been your profession that this fellow blasphemed, or even your character. I believe you’d have stood up to that easily enough. Far more likely you were defending the honor of someone you knew.”

I protested hotly,

“What does it matter?” 

“Why, it matters a great deal, Watson. We can’t have you getting into scraps with every common dastard to cross your path because he says the wrong thing.”

I sprang from the bed in a huff, snatching up my dressing-gown.

“It was not like that, Holmes. You weren’t there, this scoundrel hounded and hounded me, and then he--”

“He what?”

I turned away from his penetrating gaze.

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t feel the need to go over the entire exchange. No one is pressing charges, are they?”

“That is very much beside the point.”

“I don’t think so. I think we can consider the matter closed.”

“We might as well finish it, Watson, we’re very nearly there already. Was it an old Army acquaintance that he slighted? A colleague?”

“Holmes, I’m not going to discuss it further.”

“Family, then? Your wife?”

“Yes, he did say something, but I won’t repeat it for you.”

“But that isn’t what sent you over the edge. Oh, Watson, tell me it wasn’t my honour you were defending?”

“You can call on me later, Holmes, I’ll wish you a good-morning.”

I had endeavoured to keep my tone level as I answered him, but despite this effort, I must have looked flustered as he neared the truth of things. He clicked his tongue.

“Of all people, surely I am among those least worth getting into skirmishes over. You know how indifferent I am to public opinion.”

I heaved a sigh while shifting the cold compress on my head, surrendering to the inevitability of Holmes’ victory in extracting information from me.

“That may be so, but not all of us are as easily indifferent as you.”

He jumped up from his seat on the bed and paced the room.

“You poor fellow, it sounds you’ve had a trying evening. Forgive my morbid curiosity, but could I ask what sort of unpleasant rumours this man was circulating about me?”

I opened my mouth to reply but found I was at a loss for speech. Holmes observed this sympathetically.

“Ah, I do apologize. I see the fire returns to your eye just at the thought of it. It is no doubt for the best that I curb my natural curiosity and say no more. Except, to repeat my invitation for you to accompany me to St. James. I think sausages and kidneys would do that aching head of yours a world of good.”

Enticed by the offer of a solid meal, I found myself acquiescing to his wishes.


End file.
